How D'You Do?
by ThePotterGeek
Summary: What's going on inside Ian's head throughout the movie? Read to find out. COMPLETED!
1. The Rediculous and the Searching

This is my new story of the week This is my new story of the week! Also known as my second What a Girl Wants fianfic.

**Want Ian. Sadly don't own him or anything.**

**--**

I was sitting on the reception desk, oblivious to the chaos around me, working on a melody for one of my songs. It was getting frustrating, because I had been doing this for a while and I wasn't even done with the first verse. Every time I tried, it didn't sound right. I must've said so out loud, because a girl who had walked up to me said, "No, I think it sounded really good."

I was somewhat startled. She was American. "Thanks." She was pretty. I found myself liking her even though I had barely said one thing to her.

She stared at my guitar for a second. "Is that a Gibson J-200?" she asked, voice filled with awe.

"Yeah." This girl knew something about guitars. "Are you a musician?" I asked her. Well, how else would she know?

"No," she replied, "but I live with one back home."

I could feel my face fall slightly. "Oh." So she had a boyfriend, _and _was living with him. _That's_ how else she could know.

"My mom," she added, smiling a little. I was tempted to laugh at falling for a girl whose name and origin (apart from country) I didn't know. I can be a bit ridiculous sometimes.

"Oh!" Now more cheerful (all because a pretty girl that I like is still single), I slid off the desk, and stuck a sign that said 'reception' on it. Okay, so I had been slacking off. So what. "So, you checking in?"

She grinned at me, almost laughing. "Day job?" She got it. She acted like she had a million back where she lived.

"Yeah, one of many." It was strange how easily I could talk to her. It was probably a mistake, but I couldn't think straight. "You know, life of a struggling musician."

"Ah."

In an ongoing game of 'Try to Catch Your Fellow Employee Off Guard', one of the guys threw a soft football at my head and yelled, "Ian, catch!" pronouncing my name incorrectly in the process. Leaving the reception desk, I offered to show her around. Being American, she probably didn't really know what to do with herself.

"So the kitchen's through there," I pointed, "Common room's down the hall." Forgetting that she wasn't from this country, I said rather quickly, "I should warn you the dog and bone's on the blink and we've no lift here."

She looked so confused I almost laughed. "Huh?"

"Phone," I put my hand on it for emphasis, "is broken. Elevator: none."

A girl walked out of the toilet and shouted, "Lou's free."

Her eyebrow creased. "Who's Lou?"

I grinned again. This was just a smile fest. "We better take this slowly." She grinned, but it kind of stayed pasted on her face when she heard the television. Something about Lord Dashwood giving up his seat in the House of Lords to actually run in the election. Whatever. I never pay attention to politics. Not after my grandparents.

She walked towards the screen, eyes never leaving it. "My dad." That, more than anything else, shocked me. This American girl, daughter of one of the oldest and richest families in England? And we had been getting along so nicely, too… I had no chance with her, not in a million years. My family was shunned by people like that, ever since my mother married beneath her 'station'.

"Lord Dashwood, who will marry his fiancé, Glynnis Payne, in the presence of the Queen at the end of the summer will also inherit a stepdaughter, the lovely Clarissa Payne." The reporter may have stopped talking if he had seen the smile slide slowly off her face. She looked so… sad.

I figured that I wouldn't be missed very much, so I said, "Fancy a walk?" When she nodded, I led the way to the door. The second we stepped outside, I remembered that I didn't even know her name. The only thing I knew about her was that she was a Dashwood, and her mother was a musician. And that she knows about day jobs. "Sorry, I'm Ian Wallace." I held out my hand, and she shook it.

"Daphne Reynolds." Okay, maybe not a Dashwood?

We walked for a while, and she told me that she had come here from New York to look for her dad, because she had lived without one for her whole life. She told me about how her mother, the musician, had raised her. I could tell that now she was having doubts about coming, and she voiced them soon afterward.

"I just don't know if I can do this anymore."

"Daphne, he's your father. You flew halfway around the world to see him." Since I had never been in a situation remotely like this in my life, all I could do was ensure her that a parent's love is constant, and it's almost obligatory. And she was such a lovable person. I should know. "You can't turn back now." I don't want you to. But she wouldn't stay for me. She'd have to be crazy to stay for a guy she barely knows.

"He has a family now. You saw them… They're so elegant and sophisticated. It's like…" she trailed off for a second. I waited for he to finish. "What would he want with me?" What wouldn't he want with you? You're his daughter. But instead of staying serious, I decided to paint the whole thing a brighter color.

"Yeah, well, you got a point there." I could joke and she could take it. We were both so natural around each other. No tenseness or awkwardness of having known each other for only twenty minutes at all. So maybe I did have a chance.

"Shut up." She smiled slightly, though. I felt that if she could have less of a solemn mood about all of it, she would see how it wasn't so bad. "It's just… not as simple as I thought." She paused. "Maybe I should just go home and let him get on with his life."

She looked up at me, hoping for more advice. I walked ahead of her, thinking _No, no, NO!_, but I couldn't help her anymore. The truth was, I barely knew her. She needed to figure it out on her own.

We continued to walk in silence. Neither of us said anything, but neither of us needed to talk. When we got onto the street, she said, "You're right. I'll see you around," and hopped on a bus. I waved before she disappeared from sight, hoping against hope that I would see her around. It was days before I saw her again.

So do you like? This is my second story like this. I figured that I was doing pretty well with my other one, so I'm going to attempt to tear open another male mind. Review!

**-Arnold-**


	2. Craziest Face Known to Mankind

Don't own it

**Don't own it.**

**I'm doing some tweaking, trying to make the story less like you're watching the movie and more like you're really seeing Ian's character. I made him a little quirkier in the last chapter, and now I'm gonna do it again. And again. For as long as necessary.**

**--**

I figured that since she didn't come back to the hotel, and some butler came to get her stuff, that Daphne had found her father and was living in his house. Or something like that. Now I had to find her, because I wasn't going to let her disappear; I liked her too much. I didn't even have a shoe in a country full of women with over and undersized feet!

I called the Dashwood Manor the next day (having found it in the phone book- you'd think if they didn't want random fans and paparazzi finding them, they'd at least not list their number), feeling extremely bold, hoping against hope that this would work. It didn't. A girl, who I assumed to be Clarissa Payne, picked up the phone. She sounded too snobby to be a housemaid, and too young to be Glynnis Payne, her mother. And it definitely wasn't Daphne. "Dashwood residence, Clarissa speaking." She sounded like she was trying to stay calm and composed and sound elegant, like she had been expecting a call from someone. Well, she was about to be disappointed.

"Hi, this is Ian Wallace, is Daphne Reynolds there, please?" I said, trying to sound casual as though I were just calling a normal house that held a normal girl inside it. Neither of which was true.

"She's not here," Clarissa replied, sounding annoyed. Then, picking up her old tone, she continued, "There's no one here by that name, actually." Liar. "Sorry." Pants on fire.

I sighed. "Look, if you do happen to see her, could you tell her that Ian Wallace is trying to find her?" Desperately. But it was a stupid thing to ask, because if Daphne really wasn't there, then Clarissa would never remember, and the chances of her 'happening' to see her on the street were slim to none. And if she was there (which she obviously was), Clarissa obviously didn't like it, so she would sabotage it in any way she could. Bit sad, how well I knew the female mind. Or the shallow ones, anyway. Daphne, I couldn't quite figure out.

"Absolutely, I will." She then hung up. I could practically hear her say, "In your dreams, commoner." I breathed out heavily again, then walked out of the telephone box and back to the hotel, which I had just left on the job (again) to come and try to talk to her. No one ever seemed to mind that I did that a lot.

I meant to go to the manor later that day, to try and get in and see her myself, but a fire in the kitchen nearly burned the hotel down, and by the time I was let off my shift, it was too late to go anywhere. Especially halfway across the city to a mansion.

I woke up with one thing on my mind: find Daphne. I wasn't completely sure why I was trying to hard; I mean, she was just a girl, right? (Riiiiight, Ian… You tell yourself that.)

I rode my bike to the Dashwood Manor, and went up to the gate, staring around. It was a beautiful place. But I didn't let the place intimidate me or keep me from my task. A guard came up to me and I said, "I'm here to see Daphne Reynolds."

In a monotone, he replied, "Do you have an appointment, sir?"

Appointment? To come see a friend? What _was_ this place, anyway? At least he confirmed that she was here. "No, but she's a good friend of mine."

"'Fraid you don't get in without an appointment sir."

This guy was impossible. "Look, you don' understand, she's a good friend of mine, she'll want to see me."

"Could you move away now please sir."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It wasn't even a question. He was going to order me around and treat me like a criminal. "Wha'?"

"Could you move away now please sir."

I didn't even let him finish. Backing away, I said coldly, "Yeah, all right, chill out, mate, you don't own the place."

There was nothing else I could do except hope that I would see her sometime. And I did. On Saturday, in the papers, there was a picture of Daphne in the Royal Dress Show. Figures, that's the kind of crazy thing she'd do. The article was about how Henry Dashwood had a daughter with a woman he divorced, but didn't have much time to spend time with, and was now doing so more often (bullshit- something made up so that the Dashwood family name wouldn't be tainted by a child had out of wedlock). It went on to say how she came from America and disgraced herself by actually being in the show and falling off the stage. Most of it was journalist-shit, making stuff up to fill in the lines, but it was nice to know she was out in society. Maybe I'd see her at the Orwood twin's coming out party, where me and my band were going to play. And it was next week. Not too long to wait, right?

Wrong. It felt like forever. All I could do was think about it, and it never seemed to come. Finally it did. I was going to use my new song, which she had helped me write. That one line that she thought sounded good stayed the same. We came early, set up, and once there was a significant amount of people there, we began to play.

I kind of forgot about watching for Daphne, because I had so much fun playing. We had finished a song, and we getting ready to start another, when I heard a kind of hush fall over the room. It wasn't completely silent, but things definitely got quieter. I looked up and saw her.

Her dress had some kind of ugly covering on it. Unsure of what to do, she had the poor man announce her whole address, which made me want to laugh, but I didn't because then the entire room would see. And so would she. I didn't really know which was worse. Then she took off the covering and I stopped chuckling abruptly. She looked beautiful. And I wasn't the only one who noticed. She was still something of a celebrity, and most people present knew who she was, so she got stares. I noted that Armistead Stuart was staring, grinning in a way I did _not_ like. Not that I liked him at all in the first place, but still.

As she descended the stairs, she was attacked by reporters taking pictures. As much as I wanted to go over there, I couldn't leave. Her father rescued her, but after only a few minutes, Armistead started to dance with her. The bubble of hot jealousy that was growing in my chest got a little smaller when I saw she wasn't really enjoying herself. She seemed to get angry and annoyed at him, and I saw why, with another hot flash of anger, and then I heard the band start the first chords of 'Long Time Coming', so I started.

Everybody wants to be loved Every once in a while

I heard her whisper my name. But there was no time to dwell on that now. Maybe I did have a chance? Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl-

We all need someone to hold on to

_Just like a helpless child_

_Can you whisper in my ear_

_Let me know it's all right_

It's been a long time coming  
Down this road  
And now I know what I've been searching for

_  
It's been long long highway_

_And now I see  
Love's been a long time  
Been a long time  
Love's been a long time...  
coming._

At some point Armistead had swept her back into dance, but she didn't stop looking at me. Finally she broke away from his grip, and spent the rest of the song staring at me. So she liked me. A lot. YES! I of course, was arely able to tear my eyes away from her, but knowing she was looking at me made it easier for me to look at other people in my audience.

Song finished, I hopped off the stage for a break. We'd been playing for something like an hour now. Walking to the terrace with everyone else, I saw Daphne talk to the girls who were coming out, who were sitting all alone, in very apparent misery and loneliness. She was really, really nice, on top of everything else, which only made me like her more.

We all got something to drink, talking and joking. But I was just biding my time, waiting. Not too long afterwards, Daphne came out, and she looked around. I knew what she was trying to find, so I excused myself, put my drink down and asked her, "Looking for me?" I knew the answer already.

"No, I'm just looking for the Lou."

Funny, Daphne. "Outside? On the terrace? Mmhm." I cocked my head, motioning for her to follow me.

She did. "All right, so you caught me." Not that she seemed to actually care that I did.

"So let me guess," I said jokingly, "You're going to disappear again without so much as a glass slipper?" I was wondering why she had disappeared last week, and the question must have showed on my face, for she answered it with a look of her own.

"No," she sat down beside me. "This Cinderella's got a dad now, she's not going anywhere." So she had been so caught up in everything, she had forgotten. That didn't really make me feel bad. Something exciting happens, and everything else goes flying from your mind. I knew the feeling.

We sat in silence for a second. "Your song was really beautiful."

I smiled at her. I don't think she knew how much that meant to me. People who I played for rarely said anything to me, let alone compliment me. All they did was pay me. The only other people who heard me play are fellow band members (who are all my friends), and a few times, my parents, who are obligated to say that you did well no matter how much you blew it. "Thanks. It's not going to liven up this party, though." I stared at the twins, and felt a strange pang in my chest. I wanted to help them, but there wasn't much for me to do. When all was said and done, I was just the paid musician. "Poor girls. I feel sorry for them. A dud like this will send them straight back into social Siberia."

"Well, what do you say we liven things up a little bit? Get the party started!"

She wanted me to play something really loud and rock 'n' roll type. Not going to happen. "Well, first of all, I could get fired. And second of all," since I couldn't think of one, "I could get fired!"

"C'mon."

"No." There was no way she would make me.

"Whimp." She played on male pride. Not gonna work.

"No. No!"

"For me?" she pleaded. Damn. She knew how much I liked her. Plus, she made the craziest face known to mankind.

"Okay," I gave in, grinning. "Let's do it."

I grabbed her hand and pulled her up. She went back inside, and I got my friends back on stage, after telling them that we were going to shake things up. Majorly. James Brown style. They didn't care. They were so bored they would have done anything to be interesting. Even if it meant a smaller paycheck. And less gigs in the future. Maybe some bar would hear about us and want us to come play for them. _That_ would be much more interesting than constantly doing quiet parties.

I ran up on stage, and they got ready. "Okay guys! One, two, three!"

Faintly, I heard Daphne yell that she was turning up the base, which was probably the biggest mistake of them all.

_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!!_

_I'm back!_

_Get up offa that thing,_

_and shake 'till you feel better,_

_Get up offa that thing,_

_and shake it, say it now!_

People were dancing around, even stiff, conservative older people. Peach and Pear were having the time of their life.

_Get up offa that thing,_

_and shake 'till you feel better,_

_Get up offa that thing,_

_and try to release that pressure!_

Then here was a music break, and it was so loud that everything was shaking. No one really noticed, because everyone was having so much fun. Finally, the chandelier fell to the ground and shattered into millions of pieces. Everyone looked horrified, especially Daphne. It was the base. Lord Orwood began crying over it like he had lost a loved one. Had there been different circumstances, I might have laughed at the absurdity of it all. I mean, it's a chandelier.

Daphne took a few steps forward, openmouthed. Lord Orwood dramatically pointed an accusing finger at her and shouted, "You!" Then everyone began muttering and whispering. Lord Dashwood came to Daphne's rescue again, pulling her away from the crowd. Everywhere, flashbulbs were going off. The Dashwood party evacuated, after fighting off the paparazzi.

Everything sort of dispersed after that. Lord Orwood came up to me almost immediately after Daphne left, and, too angry for words, shoved an envelope at me. In it contained the checks for the whole band, for what we had played. We took that as the signal to pack up and go home.

Once we were all outside, I handed out people's money. They were going to hang out, and invited me along. I told them I couldn't. I had something to do.

The second I got home, I called the Dashwood Manor, and asked for Daphne. This time, she was given to me.

"Hi," she said dully. Tonight must have put a damper on her spirits.

"Hi," I replied. "It's Ian. I'm picking you up tomorrow at eleven. We're going to erase every memory of tonight."

I could hear the smile in her voice. "Okay."

"Daphne?"

"Yeah?"

"I think the girls loved it."

There was silence for a moment. Then "Thanks, Ian. For everything."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay."

We both hung up. I felt like I had just donated a million pounds to a charity organization.

--

**I'm beginning to like this story a lot more than I did before. I hope you like the changes I make. And have made. There will be more very shortly!**

**-Arnold-**


	3. Seeing Her Smile

I'm sorry this took so long… (hangs head) Now chapters REALLY won't be coming out as often, because I have started high school

**Okay, this is my last bit of construction before actually starting to write again! I'm really excited! But I'm also making this chapter longer, so that's kind of like making a new one, no?**

**I don't own this movie. I don't even own this story. I barely own anything. 'Cept this pair of really cute Care Bear pants I got at a rummage sale in Wisconsin.**

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The next day, eleven on the dot, I drove up to the gate, this time I knew exactly what to say. I told the man that yes, I did have an appointment, and apparently someone had told him that I would be coming for Daphne, and all I had to do was tell him my name to be let in. This day was already going well. Hopefully, it would only get better.

I drove my bike up the driveway and parked it. When I knocked on the door, in a second it had opened to reveal an old butler. "Hello sir. Mr. Wallace, I presume?"

"Yeah." I was amazed at how many people needed to where Daphne was going, and whom she was going with, just so I could get in.

"Come in, please." He showed me to a sitting room right off the entrance hall, and then he left me there to wait, telling me he'd "inform Ms. Reynolds of my presence." With nothing better to do, I sat down and waited, staring at the splendor around me. About thirty seconds after the butler had gone, Daphne's father opened the door and looked like he was about to go out, but stopped dead. Looked like he saw my bike.

I cleared my throat. He turned. Standing up, I said, "Hello sir. Ian Wallace. I'm here to pick up Daphne." I walked toward him, hand extended. "How d'you do?"

He shook it. "How d'you do." He didn't say it as a question. I wonder why people say it if they didn't want the answer?

"Good."

He seemed very distracted. After a moment he looked at me and asked, "Who are you?"

Since I had already told him my name, I said, "I'm a musician. I was at the ball last night."

"You were in the band."

I nodded. Didn't miss a trick, this one.

"And now you and Daphne are…"

"Eloping together? Yeah." I preyed to God that he had a sense of humor. "I realize it's a bit sudden, but after list night," I laughed nervously, "there really was no turning back."

He was silent for a second, then said, "You're joking."

"Yes, sir."

I saw him smile before Daphne came into the room. My smile only got wider. I grabbed her hand and she said to her dad, "Don't wait up, Henry!" It kind of went along with the joke I had just made, but I wasn't about to tell _her_ that.

We walked outside and as soon as she saw it, she was exclaiming over my bike. "Okay," I said, "what we need is a little cheering up, right?"

"Hold the little," she said, and put on her helmet.

"Just leave it all to me," I replied, and put my own helmet on. In a few seconds we were speeding away, Daphne whooping and cheering. Her enthusiasm made me feel like it was the first time I was driving a motorbike. I had to fight to concentrate; all I was thinking about were her hands grasped around me. Her touch made my heart beat six times faster.

We drove to the outdoor marketplace and had a blast. Daphne was going to every stand and looking around, buying the occasional thing. As a sort of gift, I bought her a bunch of cheap bracelets that she liked. I didn't know what made me do it. Just seeing her smile made it worth it. I guess that's why I took her out here in the first place. I couldn't bear to see her sad.

When we had gone through the entire place, we leaned against the railing facing the shops, me looking exactly the same, and her with a dozen or so new bracelets and a new skirt she was wearing over her jeans. A strange combination, but she looked great in it. As always. And she was smiling. I couldn't help but smiling along with her.

"Thanks for my bracelets."

Instead of saying 'You're welcome' like a normal human being, I had to lose control of my tongue (it happens so often around her) and say, "It's okay." God, I wish I could kick myself sometimes.

She didn't seem fazed by my less than normal response. "Today was really fun. I needed it." I knew. That was why I did it. I was immensely happy that it worked.

"Good. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself." Hopefully it wasn't just because of the shopping, either.

Her face changed. "From now on I'm going to behave."

She was going to change? I thought she liked herself the way she was. Trying to imagine her acting perfectly proper made me laugh. "Behave like what, exactly?"

Casting about for a good way to phrase it she said, "I don't know…" She paused, then she had it. "An impeccably brought up young lady. No more repeats of last night." At least her face hadn't darkened at all. So she wasn't depressed or mortally embarrassed by what had happened anymore.

I was still giggling, trying to see her being straight-backed and graceful. She didn't seem too happy by how I was making fun of her. "Okay, I just chose you to help." And she began walking away. I cocked an eyebrow. Boy, was she in for it. She didn't know just how well I could teach her.

I caught up with her and said, "Okay. I'll do it." That in and of itself surprised her. I think she was expecting me to put up more of a fight, like I had last night.

I didn't tell her what we were going to do. We just got on my bike and I drove us out of the city, to a lake that was far enough away from the smog that it felt like the country. Ducks and geese thrived there, and you couldn't hear the traffic or the rumbling of buses at all.

Still keeping my mouth shut, despite her constant questioning, I rented us a boat and got us to the middle of the lake. Then, I told her to stand up.

"What?" she asked, eyebrows going up. "No way! Ever heard of the rule 'No standing in boats'? We'll flip over!"

"That," I said, standing and rocking the boat a bit, "is the whole point. Get up there." I motioned to one of the seats. Cautiously, she climbed up, shaking the whole thing as she did. I began paddling again.

"Get your balance." It was a stupid thing to say, because instinct would be forcing her to do just that. But, you know, she seemed like she needed some instruction. And encouragement. "Okay, that's it. Now gently… slide your foot back." She tried (too fast, mind you), and ended up losing her balance and rocking the boat. We both had to drop and grab the sides to stay on. "So much for gently!" I could tell this wouldn't come through on its own. So I needed to help a little.

"Hold this," I said, handing her the paddle, trying to organize my thoughts into a manner she'd understand. Like my mum showed me when I was younger. "You gotta think grace, you gotta think poise." I paused, thinking a little more. It was so hard, trying to teach someone something that didn't come naturally and hadn't been drilled into her since birth. "You gotta think… balance." Obviously. I rolled my eyes, hoping she had figured that one out by herself without my help.

I stood straight. "Observe." I swept her my finest, as good as mum had taught me, as she and I were laughing, when I was a child.

I came up, and she was visibly impressed. "Nice…" She handed the paddle back to me and said, "So tell me, Obi-Wan, where did you learn your impressive skills?"

"Well, if you really want to know, believe it or not…" She wasn't going to. "My mother was a deb."

Surprisingly, she did. "Really?"

"Yeah. Then she chose to marry beneath her… Her parents probably disowned her… But for some reason they took pity on me, their half-breed grandson. They paid for me to go to all the right schools, they got me into all the right clubs… Until one day I realized the hypocrisy of it all." There she had it. If I knew her at all, she wouldn't hate me for it. But this was usually the ultimate test of friendship and loyalty. If people could stand to hear what my mother had given up, how seemingly stupid she was, could see past that into the story behind it all, how much my parents loved each other, how little they cared for her parents' approval… those were the people to stick with. Most people could deal with me being poor, because almost everyone I knew was the same, barely better, or a little worse. They know how hard life is and find it hard to understand who would want to live like we do. Those kinds of people feel awkward around my mother, because they don't know what to say to a person who used to have money. People who treat her like a normal person and treat us like a normal family are the good ones, as well.

"And your parents?"

I smiled, because she had gotten it. She had struck gold. And I couldn't be happier. "They're poor as church mice, but they're the happiest people I know." I had gotten used to taking about my parents in very materialistic terms. I had realized all this and had come to terms with it a long time ago.

We sat in silence for a few seconds before I remembered why we were here. "Now enough stalling. Get up there, and let me see you perform!"

"All right, all right." She got up and stood on the seat again. Her little stage.

"Find your center." She did. "Good. That's it." After a moment's pause, where I was sure she had her balance, I said, "Now…"

For the record, she tried. But she wobbled, and that sent us shaking. I realized we were going to fall, and I went over and grabbed her, knowing it wouldn't really do much, but it was an excuse to touch her. And a very good excuse at that. Plus it would keep me from having to save her from drowning or anything like that.

Hah. Drowning. We could both stand up quite comfortably, actually, with the water only up to about our waists. We were laughing our heads off, which made getting back in the boat a bit difficult. Finally I managed, dragging her in with me. She landed on top of my, but quickly rolled off to lie next to me. We were so close. All different parts of me were burning at the places we touched, and our faces were only inches apart.

"You know what I still don't get." I didn't voice it as a question, because I wasn't really expecting an answer. But I wanted to make it known. I didn't really know why I did it now. Maybe it was because I knew what was coming, so I wanted her to know how I felt about her. Every mess she got into just made me like her more. "Why are you trying so hard to fit in when you were born to stand out?"

And then I worked up the courage, getting closer, and then I did it. I kissed Daphne Reynolds. Something I'd been wanting to do for a few weeks now. And what half amazed me- but only half- is that she kissed back.

And then I realized how this must look: two teenagers, snogging in a boat. I pulled away, only to have her pull me back. So I surrendered to the bliss for a while.

Then it ended, but the feeling was still in my chest. "It's getting late," I murmured.

She nodded, still in a bit of a daze, then sat up abruptly. "How long have we been out?"

You can't see Big Ben from where we were, and I didn't have a watch, so I was just about as clueless as she was. I sat up slower that she did. "When we left to come here I think it was almost four."

She stopped for a second, and then started giggling uncontrollably. "We've been gone over five hours. God, I hope no one's worried about me."

I picked up the paddle that had been lying neglected on the bottom of the boat and said, "I'll take you back."

"Thanks," she said, giving me her trademark grin, the one that always made me smile back, this time bigger than ever.

--

Hope you like. I definitely do. Now I'm going to stop being OCD about how good my stories are, and will begin writing new chapters shortly.

**-Arnold-**


	4. Dating Daphne

Yay

Yay! I'm FINALLY updating! For all of you who don't know, I have done some pretty significant construction to my last three chapters, so if you want to go back and read those, be my guest. However, none of them is really significant to plot progression, except for the end of the last chapter, to which I added a significant amount. So read it! NOW.

**Let's hear you all say it, because I'm tired of doing it. C'mon. You know what to say. It's a short statement that specifies whether or not the author of this piece has any legal right to do so. Which I don't. It's easy, folks! (elbows some random stranger in the ribs)**

**Random Stranger: Ow!**

**Me: Say it, please.**

**RS: Say what??**

**Me: (elbows him again)**

**RS: OWIE!! Okay, okay, she doesn't own anything that has to do with anything on this site, now and forever!**

**Me: Well, a little more than I wanted, but… beggars can't be choosers eh? Roll it!**

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Somehow, we got back to the shore, returned the boat, and got on my bike. I don't quite remember how, because all the while I was up on a cloud. For once in my life, the girl I was crushing on liked me back. Oh, yeah, a bunch of girls have liked me. But I've never liked them. No, it's always the girls who are flat-out against dating me that I fall for. Not this time.

While I was driving her home, neither of us said a word, not attempting to talk over the roar of my bike or the rumbling of traffic around us, because neither of us felt the need to. I was perfectly happy to do my best to concentrate on the road while her hands were gripped around my waist, and her head was resting on my shoulder.

Too soon, we arrived at the Dashwood manor. I kissed her goodbye, in front of the guards and everything, before allowing her to walk inside. When she did, her father, face filled with worry began talking with her, and with a 'sorry about my dad' look and a small shrug, I took it as my cue to leave. I mouthed 'bye' to her, and then left, shutting the door behind me.

Since it was Sunday (a day on which I don't work at the hotel, thank God), I drove home, resisting the urge to call her. I had just seen her. I didn't need to spend every moment either in her presence or talking to her. It was bad enough that I thought about her constantly. And anyway, she was probably talking to her father. But I would call her… just not right then.

Okay, fine, she ended up calling me. But I had a legitimate excuse. Since I haven't started college yet (I'm going to Oxford on a pretty good scholarship- but that's why I have so many jobs. I need to pay for room and board and that kind of thing), I'm still living at home. This being the case, I still have chores to do. So the entire time I was helping my mum, I was debating whether or not I should call. Stupid really, because when all is said and done, Daphne wouldn't care if I seemed very dependant and called right after I had just seen her. She's just not that kind of girl. But I worried anyway, glad for the distraction, hoping that it would take up more time, every second that passed made me seem less obsessed with Daphne Reynolds.

I was trying to get my younger sister to eat some vegetables when the phone rang. Since my mum was up to her elbows in dish soap, she yelled for someone to get the phone. I was busy (Lilly was being really bratty about her greens at the moment), so my sixteen year old sister answered the phone, seeing as all she was doing was reading to our brother before he went to sleep, and that could be put off to answer a measly call.

Only it wasn't a measly call. Chloe (the sixteen year old) handed me the phone and mouthed, with a sly smirk, 'Who's Daphne?' I just rolled my eyes at her and took the phone, watching as Lilly magically began eating her broccoli. My sister is _so_ good with kids.

"Hey." I heard Daphne's warm voice over the line.

"Hey." I couldn't help but smiling.

Since Chloe was making ridiculously immature flirty and kissy faces, I took the phone up to the room that I (regretfully) shared with her.

"Why didn't you call?" she asked. Oh, God. If only she knew.

"Well, I figured that you were talking with your dad and…" I trailed off, a bit pathetically, with her giggling on the other end. "And then I got caught up in a lot of stuff. My mom needs my help with my siblings and everything and… Why am I explaining myself to you?" She wasn't just giggling anymore. I could practically see her sprawled on her bed, shaking with laughter. 'Cause I could sure hear it. "Look, I have a life outside of you, Daphne!"

She managed to stop laughing long enough to spit out, "I was kidding! Why would I care if you're not calling every second?"

"You don't," I replied, grinning my face off again. "That's what I like about you. Er, one of the many things, anyway."

"Don't, Ian. You're making me blush."

I snorted. She didn't seem like the 'blushing maiden' type. There was silence for a few moments, and I decided to break it, partly because I didn't like silence for too long on the phone, and partly because I was actually wondering.

"So, are we dating now, or what?"

"Ian!"

"What?"

For a few moments, she seemed to wrestle with the words and the laughter. "It's just, you know… funny that you're asking that so… bluntly. And over the phone."

"What do you want me to do? Ride over there, throw rocks at your window to get you to come outside, then kneel and give you a ring and ask you to be my girlfriend?"

"The rocks, maybe. Just be careful not to break the window. But the kneeling thing… that's proposal of _marriage_. I didn't know you liked me _that_ much…"

"Whatever, Daphne. Just answer me."

"Oh, aren't we bossy. Some people think we own the world just because they made out with Daphne Reynolds, Henry Dashwood's daughter in a boat."

"Well. Aren't you modest."

"The answer is yes, by the way."

"What?" In the midst of our 'argument', I had completely forgotten what we had been talking about.

"Yes, we are dating."

I smiled again. "Good. That's what I thought."

We sat there in silence again, and I didn't know about her, but I had a big goofy smile on my face.

I heard someone shout my name from downstairs. "I gotta go, Daph. 'Night."

"'Kay. Call me, will you?" she said, teasing in every syllable.

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"'Night," she said, and I would have replied and kept the conversation going all night, but she hung up before I got the chance.

Just then, Chloe walked into the room, hauling Matthew, the youngest. "Here," she said, thrusting him at me, "put him to bed. And then," she added, "we're going to talk about this girl."

I rolled my eyes at her, then took Matt to the room that he and Lilly shared. By the time I had gotten him to lie down and close his eyes, Lilly was in the room, climbing into bed after hugging me and grabbing a book.

I closed the door to their room cautiously, and when I turned I was face to face (er, not quite, maybe more like her face looked straight at my chest and I was looking down at her hair) with Chloe, who ushered me into our room.

"Sit," she said, pointing at my bed. I sat, and she sat on hers, only about three feet away. "Explain," she ordered.

Since we were really close, I didn't mind telling her, but I was unsure where to start.

Noticing my confused silence, she prompted me, "Who is she, first of all?"

"Well, you know Henry Dashwood's daughter, who's always in the papers?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's who she is. Daphne Reynolds."

My sister stared at me, openmouthed. "What?" I asked. "Are you really so surprised that my girlfriend's famous?"

She grinned, then said, "Well, first of all, its amazing that you have a girlfriend at all. Even more amazing is that you _really_ like her. That in and of itself never seems to happen to you. But the daughter of a man in the House of Lords, that's… wow." She trailed off into stunned silence before asking, "How did you manage _that_?"

"Well, I was working at the GBGH-"

"Working?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, being completely oblivious to everything around me while working on a song, only stopping and paying attention to the world when someone asked something of me. Happy?"

She smiled. I went on.

"Anyway, she came up and we started talking, I showed her around, and Dashwood was on the TV, and she told me that was her dad. Then she told me that she had come here from America looking for her father who she had never known (contrary to what the press said)."

Chloe sat there for another moment, looking a bit stunned, then said "Wow" again. More silence. "And now you're dating?"

"Well, we saw each other last night, and she was pretty down about what happened, with the chandelier and all, so I took her out this morning-"

"And was out for five and a half hours! You must like her, to spend so much time with her."

"Thing is, I really do."

All joking gone, she smiled. "I'm really happy for you, Ian. I know things haven't worked out for you in the romance department, and I'm so glad this girl came along, whoever she is. Anyone who can make you smile like that is someone I like."

I smiled back. "Thanks, Chlo."

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**Well, I hoped you enjoyed that. What I'm really trying to do is get out of the movie a little and just see into his daily life, because that's the whole point. Getting into his head.**

**The reason he shares with his sister is that he has to share with somebody, and sharing with someone ten years younger than you doesn't quite work out. However, someone who is two years younger works out a little better, even if that someone is a girl. But there's a bigger reason, which will be revealed in a later chapter.**

**I hope you review now, because it would be really nice!**

**-Arnold-**


	5. Picking Up Where They Left Off

So I'm sitting here at my computer, all ready to update, when I realize something: most normal people have some kind of update

So I'm sitting here at my computer, all ready to update, when I realize something: most normal people have some kind of update schedule, right? So… why don't I? If I know that it may not get done otherwise, and stories (like this one, for all of you who have stuck with me from the beginning) are left to rot. And wither in the author's mind. And that's just NOT okay. So now I am setting a time for this story: I will do my absolute best to update this story at best, as fast as I can type the chapters, but at worst, once a month. I know that's a long time, but take a look at the time difference between the third and fourth chapters. It's a whole lot longer than a month. So if I set a specific time for myself, a deadline, as it were, I force myself to update. This is good training for my (hopefully) future career, which will (hopefully) include writing. And deadlines. Well, maybe not deadlines, but writing, definitely.

**Wow, I talk a lot.**

**Now I know you guys have been sitting nicely for a while, waiting for me to update. Or maybe you have better things to do with your time than just sit at your computer, logged into your email, waiting for a story alert to pop up on your screen because you have no friends. Because I am sure that this is not the case. If it is, well… you know where to find me. But right now, I'm going to set aside my worries about the people without social skills, and get on with the chapter.**

**Photographer (taking pictures of Arnold as she's modeling for the camera): You're cute! You're fluffy! Own it!**

**Arnold (flashing cute smile and fluffing fluffy fur): Okay! (looking directly into random video camera) But I don't own this movie, no matter how many pygmy puff eyes I make at Warner Brothers! (makes pygmy puff eyes)**

**Crowd of Admirers: Awwwwww…**

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"Would you look at that."

"What?" I asked. The girl next to me was staring at something behind me as I was taking off my helmet.

"_That_," she replied, pointing at the river. I turned around to follow her finger and saw one of the racing teams practicing, warming up their muscles my rowing through the water as a group. "They're using just their arms to pull themselves and a boat through the water, and at such a _speed_, and perfectly synchronized…" She trailed off, awed.

Since I had seen many such a race, and many rowing teams of the like, I was unimpressed, but I laughed at her enjoyment, and it allowed me to see the race through new eyes. It _was_ pretty amazing, how they could do all that at the same time.

"Watch her," I told Alex, one of the lads from my band. "Make sure her eyes don't fall out."

He grinned, and the girl elbowed me as I put my helmet down and looked around.

People were running among the tables set out for those who'd be watching the race, putting last minute things into place everywhere. Since I was a valet, I wasn't needed until a few minutes before the people would start arriving.

I collected my brightly colored vest and walkie-talkie from someone in charge, and settled down to wait until I was needed. I stood on the drive, chatting with the other people whose sole purpose was to park cars. I was talking to Alex again when a car rolled to a stop a few feet from us, and Lord Dashwood came out of it. This was what I'd been waiting for.

I excused myself to Alex and went over to the car, greeting Lord Henry Dashwood with a cheery, "Hello, sir."

He looked only slightly surprised to see me there. "Ian," He must have been more startled, but he masked it well. _He _didn't know I had about three different part time jobs, and scrabbled for any other I could get for my free time. "I had no idea you were so… versatile."

I would have said something else (because I really did want to get to know the man better), but duty must have been calling, because his soon to be father-in-law rushed him away, murmuring about 'lots to do'. I just shrugged it off and waited for the person I was really hoping to see to get out of the car.

When she did, she looked surprised to see me, and didn't try to hide it like her dad did. "Hey!" Only Daphne could make a single syllable greeting sound like the most beautiful song in the world. Every time she said it, it sounded different. "What are you doing here?"

Just seeing her made me smile. "Well, you know, just another one of my glamorous jobs." The smile dropped as I looked her over. "You look beautiful."

She smiled and replied, "Thanks." The moment of tenderness lasted a little longer until we started joking again. "I have to be on my best behavior."

"You'd better be," I advised her, looking around and spotting swarms of the press. "There's even more reporters here than usual."

"Yeah. They're just _waiting_ to see what crazy thing I'll do next."

"You mean like…" I raised my eyebrows, idea forming. Let's see how averse she is to, what Americans so vulgarly call them, PDAs. "Kissing a guy who parks cars?"

She just smiled at that, giving her silent agreement. I leaned in. I would have done it. _She_ would have done it. Well I guess it's me that's more surprising. I'm normally not like this. Just look what she makes me do…

Stupid Armistead Stewart had to come and ruin it. He sounded rushed, like he had seen what was going on and wanted to stop it immediately. "Uh, Daphne," he began, trying to regain his composure, "the press want a photo of you and your father."

"Thanks," she said, without really meaning it. "I'll find him." She made a face that was a cross between apology and 'maybe later', along with a shrug. Armistead was smiling at her like the pug-faced prat he is, but she was only looking at me, and all I said was, "See you." I was really quite disappointed. But the disappointment turned to anger once Armistead started talking to me.

"Stay away from her, peasant. She's out of your league."

There were so many things I wanted to say to him. Go to hell, you git… If I'm a mile away from her 'league', you're halfway across the world from her… but I settled for, "What's the matter, Army?" I said, voice taunting and dripping with venom, using the name that I had used with him when we had been friends, a long time ago, before word leaked out that I was a half-breed. After that, Armistead was forbidden to play with me, and he had gotten this ridiculous idea that he was better than me, despite my being able to best him at almost everything. That was what school had been like. Endless competition. "Thought competition ended in lower school." Back when we were less mature. I had actually hoped he had grown out of the stupidity. But if he was going to hate me, I could resume the contest right where we had left it, matching his loathing. Since it was quite obvious that Daphne liked me and _not_ him, I taunted him with a question. "Are you afraid she might prefer musicians to Cambridge boys?" That was obvious, since he wouldn't have approached me unless he felt like I was a real threat.

Wow. We sound like animals.

His smile shocked me a little, as did his answer. "No. Breeding always wins out in the end." Then he walked away.

I had expected him to get defensive. He had always had a temper when we were younger, in school together. Seeing him perfectly calm and coming up with a seemingly stinging answer bothered me more than the slur on my parents did. I didn't really worry about him and Daphne, because if he made a move on her, she could take care of herself. But if I ever had to do verbal combat with him again, I'd need to remember this change in him.

After being distracted for long minutes, I took the car and parked it, after giving the driver the number.

When I got back to the gravel drive, I searched the crowd for Daphne. I found her on one

of the small wooden docks, pointing her binoculars right at me, obviously with the same

idea. _Take _that_, Army,_ I thought maliciously, and waved to her around my walkie-talkie. I

saw the git with her, talking to her. She seemed quite annoyed about it… until that. Her back was to me, but she was getting closer and closer.

I watched with fascination and slight horror. She had looked pretty irritated two seconds before, so this was probably a show, but…

I couldn't help but think of Armistead's words. What if she _would_ choose a purebred over a mutt?

Just then, she shoved him off the dock and into the water. Bits of what she said drifter over to me, because she had screamed it so loudly. "…arrogant jerk.. how dare you… twice the man you'll ever be!"

The last part made me grin. She was talking about me. Okay, so it was stupid of me to worry. I knew Daphne better than Armistead did. I should have had more faith in her.

The next thing I knew, Lord Dashwood was yelling and me to give me the keys to my bike. He and Daphne needed an escape, and my bike had been either the first thing he saw, or the first thing that had popped into his mind. _Why_ did I have to be so flashy all the time? To get a motorbike in the first place made you stand out, and then to get it in bright _orange_…

I threw him the keys, and he and Daphne grabbed the helmets, got themselves on it, and _went_, reporters diving out of the way.

Once again, I was jealous that her father was the one to rescue her, as he had at the ball.

Oh, well. He's her father. He should have been there to help her when she was a kid. Since he hadn't been, he deserved to have his chance to help her out now that he actually knew she was there. And he needed to escape as well, and three people can't fit on that bike. Resigned, I tried to figure out a way I'd be able to get home.

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Hope you liked! I did this all in one sitting… I'm so proud of myself! So the clock is ticking… one month! And by then, school will have started, so I don't want to do _that_… So it will be soon, very soon. But if it's not up by September 12, at 1:32 AM, you all can yell at me. I give permission.

Review!

-Arnold-


	6. Sleeping Beauty

I have been doing terribly with the whole updating thing. And I am sorry. I'm working on it. Really I am.

**Disclaimer: Help! I've run out of funny things to say about not owning this movie!**

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I managed to get a ride home with Alex. He also had a bike- though he had gotten it from his dad, and it had seen better days. _He_ hadn't worked his ass off working for three years to pay for it!

Okay, rant over.

It was a little awkward riding with another guy, what with me having to hold on for dear life and all, but we laughed it off, and the trip wasn't long.

The second I walked into my house, I tried calling Daphne. To my surprise, the butler picked up. No one was home yet, even Daphne and her father. Strange. They had left hours before the race had ended and everyone had gone home. We may have traveled faster than the fancy-schmancy, gas-guzzling car of the Dashwoods', but there was no reason that my girlfriend and her father shouldn't be home.

Since I didn't have my bike, I couldn't go to work, so I was resigned to helping my mother for the rest of the day, frequently calling the Dashwood residence to see if Daphne had gotten home.

After a few hours, I gave up, assuming that Daphne would call me when she got home, and if not, I'd call her tomorrow. My mother, who had already fished the story out of me, used me mercilessly, since Chloe and Dad were both out working. Mum had stopped working ever since she'd had Lilly, when me and Chloe both decided it was high time we would help with the bills: Chloe started babysitting and I started working at the hotel. I hadn't been old enough for a work permit at the time, but GBGH had needed help so badly that they had hired on a thirteen-year-old. Legally, Chloe was too young to babysit at eleven, but she was mature enough that the problem of her age never came up.

It was edging nearer and nearer to five o'clock, and I was entertaining Matt and Lilly with the much-loved tale of Sleeping Beauty. It had enough action to engross Matt, while at the same time, was girly enough for Lilly. _I_ was even having fun, using this ridiculously high-pitched voice for all the women, and the really deep, manly-sounding voice for all of the men, with variations for each character, my little siblings, laughing, trying to imitate me.

I didn't her the knock at the door, because of my special (and quite loud) evil voice for the wicked witch. However, there must have been one, possibly even a doorbell, because the next thing I know, right in the middle of Prince Charming's manly-man sentence, I hear a voice behind me going, "Wow, Ian, if only you sounded like that in real life."

Startled, and beginning to feel warm, I twisted around in my position seated on the floor. There, looking slightly windblown, was Daphne. Immediately the heat in my face subsided, and I grinned. "Hey."

There was a tug on my sleeve. "Ian?" Lilly asked quietly, plainly shy and timid around this stranger their brother seemed to know so well.

"Sorry, Lils," I said. "Guys, this is Daphne. Daphne, these two are Lilly and Matthew, my siblings."

"Hey," she said, waving and dropping into a crouch, then sitting down. "You guys like Sleeping Beauty?"

Matt didn't do anything, but Lilly, the bolder of the two, nodded. Gaining confidence at Daphne sweet smile, she continued. "My favorite part is when the prince and Aurora are dancing in the clouds."

"Really? How about you?" She turned on Matt.

I was about to warn her about how shy my three-year-old brother was, when Matt piped up, "I like the part where he sticks the dragon with his sword."

"That's a great part, too."

Lilly, smiling at Daphne's smile and air of easygoing-ness, asked, "What's yours?"

"Mine?" she actually thought for a second. "My favorite part has to be when the prince kisses Aurora and she wakes up because he's her true love." She glanced sideways at me and my heart sped up.

Lilly sighed. Even at five, she was a romantic. Chloe's going to have fun with her when she gets older.

In that moment, Chloe stuck her head in, carrying bags of groceries in both arms. "Hey Ian, could you-"

She stopped when she saw Daphne sitting on the floor next to me, and Sleeping Beauty open to page twelve. A sly smile appeared on her face as she said, "Never mind," and strolled to the kitchen with her burdens.

"That's Chloe. She's also really good at telling stories," Matt put in.

I had been momentarily stunned at how easily the kids took to her, but was jolted back to Earth when Lilly reached over and tugged my arm. "C'mon, Ian, finish the story! We haven't gotten to the best part yet!" Matt whined his agreement.

Chloe walked in just as I was miming stabbing the dragon through its heart, using Lilly as my 'dragon'. Both of my siblings were extremely exited, Matt because this was the awesome part, and Lilly because she was anticipating the 'happily ever after.' Chlo settled down next to Lilly, who had graciously pretended to die after I stabbed her.

Once I'd finished the story with my usual 'happily ever after' quirk, Chloe promptly disappeared under a pile of siblings. Laughing, Daphne and I retreated to the hall.

"So, why show up here unannounced?" I asked her.

"Well, you know, I thought you might want to have your bike back before you had to get to work tomorrow."

"Is your dad here?"

Grinning, she shook her head.

"You drove it yourself?!?"

"Yeah! It was a little shaky at first, but I did it! I wanted to see you without parental supervision-" Thinking about mum in the next room, humming along with the radio while cooking, I snorted- "and I wanted to see where you lived. This gave me the perfect excuse."

"I'm glad you need an excuse to come see me."

"Sometimes I do. It's hard to get out of the house, sometimes."

I had been joking, but she'd given me a serious answer. It caught me slightly off guard.

There was silence for a few minutes, until my mom called, "Matt! Lilly! Dinnertime!" Two blurs flew past us, then Chloe came out into the hall, slightly breathless.

"Those kids can keep going forever," she commented, straightening her shirt. "Hi, I'm Chloe, this one's sixteen year old sister." She cocked her head at me.

"Hey, I'm Daphne."

Chloe smiled. "I know."

Daphne raised an eyebrow at me. "As a sister, I make it my business to know everything about my brother's life," Chloe explained.

"And it makes it a whole lot easier if said sister happens to pick up the phone when said brother's girlfriend is on. And then pesters said brother about his girlfriend." I began to lead the way upstairs.

Catching up to me, Chloe said, "But you love me, and you _always_ want to tell me things, right, Ian?"

I rolled my eyes as Daphne said, "You talk about me? That's so cute!" I had half a mind to shove both girls down the stairs. Instead, I ran ahead of them and locked them out of mine and Chloe's room. There were slightly muffled protests and quite loud thumps on the door as they demanded entry.

"Ian, this is my room, too!"

"How could you do this to us?"

"I'm gonna tell mom on you!"

There was silence for a second, then Daphne said, "I'm going to dump you if you don't let us in!"

Not wanting to risk it, I did as I was told. Catching Daphne before she could walk past me, I said, "You wouldn't."

She pushed me away, fighting to keep her face straight. "Oh, yes I would." She stalked past me with her nose in the air and settled next to Chloe, who was congratulating herself on a job well done, telling Daphne that she knew it would work.

"He's very needy, you know," she said. "Would do anything for you if you said you'd break up with him if he didn't." Daphne glanced at me. It all became too much, for both of us. We collapsed into laughter.

PPP

After about an hour, mom seemed as though she were about to ask if Daphne wanted to stay for dinner. I hustled her out of there, knowing that she'd probably be needing to get back, knowing that if she stayed for dinner she'd never get home before midnight.

As we stood on her driveway, she asked, "How'd you get to be so close with your sister?"

"Chlo? Well, for about ten years, it was just the two of us. It never occurred to us to fight or hate each other. We did almost everything together. When Lilly came along, we decided that she'd have her own room and that we'd share. She taught me everything I know about girls, and I taught her everything _she_ knows about boys."

She took a step closer to me. "So the reason we're dating is because of your sixteen year old sister?"

"Sort of, yeah."

"Well, thank God for your sister." When we kissed, I realized distantly that I'd never be able to just kiss her quickly like it meant nothing. Not if I'd always feel like this.

When we finally broke apart, she said, "Goodnight," and left me standing on the drive with this big goofy grin on my face. It took the sound of the front door closing to break me from my trance, get on my bike, and go home.

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**I hope you all liked this! This is another one of my completely made up ones, and I'm pretty proud of myself. I always wondered how Ian got his motorcycle back.**

The next few chapters are going to be mainly out of my own head, because it kind of flashes through the next few weeks or so, after Daphne's 'transformation'. So be prepared.

**Please review!**

**-Arnold-**


	7. Death and Awakening

**Hey everyone. I feel like I say this every time, but… I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while. Hopefully I'll get back on track now the driver's ed is over (!!!!!!!).**

**Now, some of you may recall where we left off. The next scene in the movie concerning Ian is one that broke many hearts: the breakup. So here it is, fleshed out in all its dramatic glory: Chapter number seven!**

_PPP_

The next couple of weeks were a blissful blur of work, family, and Daphne. Somehow, all of them got crushed into every day of the week, and I was tired, but happy. I was riding the ultimate high: I had a girlfriend I loved, a family that rocked, and I had almost finished saving for college. The band got a gig from none other than my girlfriend for her coming out party. It was all too good; I should have known that it wouldn't last.

We were coming back from a concert, still bobbing our heads to the music inside of them and singing the words a little off key- in other words, we were still having a blast. People who had seen us riding on my bike must've thought we were crazy, but we were okay with that.

They were so used to the two of us on my bike that I barely ever needed to slow down before the gates would open. Still laughing, we cruised up the drive and got off.

"I'm picking you up on Tuesday at eleven, got it?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes, then closed them, as if reciting from memory. "Strokes concert, eleven. Got it." She opened her eyes and grinned at me. "I'm going to have to go almost a full week without seeing you."

I kissed her. "You'll survive."

"And if I don't," she continued dramatically, "my only wish is that you haul my carcass to hear the dulcet tones of the Strokes one last time."

Snorting, I said, "Dulcet tones? And with the whole 'carcass' thing, you don't make this final date sound very romantic."

"It's not supposed to be romantic!" She made a face. "Well, maybe, but a depressing kind of romantic, what with you sobbing over my lifeless form and all."

"I've never been one to sob." After kissing her, I added, "So try to stay alive."

"I will. Just call me, or I might not make it."

I shook my head at her retreating form. "Good night, Daph."

She turned to flash one more grin at me. "'Night, Ian!"

That was the last time I saw her. Before there's any panic, no, she didn't die like she said she would. But after that, she was no longer herself.

When I called her the next night, she sounded funny. Distant, more reserved. She also quickly made an excuse to get off the phone quickly. At first, I didn't think much of it. Then it happened every following night. I noticed that in the papers, she wasn't smiling either; she looked unhappy, while her father climbed in the polls.

On Tuesday, I decided to act normally, and ask her about it sometime during the day. At least, that was the plan, until she walked into the room wearing clothes that would _definitely_ be out of place at a concert. She also looked genuinely surprised to see me.

I cocked an eyebrow. "You're not wearing that to the Strokes concert, are you?"

Her face fell. "Oh, my God, I totally forgot." I exhaled in an 'aw, damn' sort of way. "Things have been so hectic."

"That's okay," I replied, trying to make my voice sound like it really was. "I'll wait for you to get changed."

"I can't go," she said, almost like it was obvious. My brow crinkled in confusion. "We're going to the Queen's garden party."

I stood there, dumbfounded, for a second. "Yeah, but-"

"I'm sorry." She sounded like she meant it.

A sort of cold washed over me. I couldn't help but think that the _real_ Daphne would have at least told me. Or would have even blown off the Queen, as important as she was, because I was more important that some political figure who she barely knew. I couldn't keep the hurt and anger out of my eyes when I said, "Cool. Just… call me when _Daphne_ re-inhabits your body." Then, ignoring the hurt look on her face, I left her. I got on my bike and drove away before she could come after me, if she even wanted to.

Okay, so it was a little low. But it was the whole week of her acting weird coming to a head. The Daphne I knew didn't wear pink ladylike suits with matching ladylike hats and heels, as the Daphne before me had. Maybe she'd decided to 'clean up' her act completely, but in doing so, she forgot to get rid of the half-breed she was dating. That was the only thing that still made her the oddball Daphne. I'd taken care of that for her, but that didn't make it sting any less. It probably made it hurt worse.

When I got home, I rushed to my room without greeting anyone. Chloe was reading _Sleeping Beauty_, which hurt too much to listen to now. I heard her pause as I rushed past the sitting room.

I slammed the door shut and pounded my fist against it in the sheer unfairness of it all. _Why_ did these things always happen to _me_???

I turned around and slid slowly down the door till I was sitting on the ground, and buried my face in my hands, nearly crying. My own voice sounded in my head: _I've never been one to sob._ _So try to stay alive._ She hadn't, Daphne had died in between our meetings, but I couldn't even drag her dead body to the concert. All I could do was bawl over it.

There was a knock at the door, and Chloe's voice floated through it. "Ian?" I didn't answer her. Why couldn't she ever leave me to wallow _alone_?

She didn't ask again. I was jostled as my damned strong sister shoved at the door upon which I was leaning. She shoved again, and the door behind me opened a few inches. Knowing she wouldn't give up until she was in, I decided to make it easier for her. I got up and crossed to room to sit on my bed and put my head in my hands again.

Chloe came in, but didn't sit down on her own bed like she normally did. "Did she break up with you?"

Without lifting my head, I replied, "No."

"Then what happened?" I was worrying her- I could hear it in her voice.

"I broke up with her."

"Ian!" I heard her walk to her bed and sit. "Why?" The shock was now gone from her voice, and it had a much softer tone, more inviting.

I was able to look up at her, but my face must have alarmed her even more. "She wasn't Daphne. She came down in this pink suit, and said that she'd forgotten about the concert. She'd been so excited when I'd gotten the tickets… I could barely believe it. Then she said she couldn't go, because they were going to the Queen's garden party." I spat those words like they were poison. "So I left."

"Oh, Ian." She came over to my bed and sat next to me. "She'll come around."

"You didn't see her." I sat up a little straighter and turned to face my sister. "Last week, we were talking about how she'd die if she went a week without seeing me." I slumped again. "Talk about self-fulfilling prophecies."

"Ian!" That one held reprimand more than anything else. "She's not dead. She just needs to… wake up. You'll see."

"Like in _Sleeping Beauty_? Where I'm Prince Charming and I come to wake her up with true love's kiss?"

Chlo made a face. "You make it sound so corny. I _like_ that story." Despite myself, one of the corners of my mouth crept up a fraction.

We sat in silence for a few moments before my sister said, "You must have done something _really_ bad in a past life, because this sort of thing _always_ happens to you. Did you break a mirror recently? Kill anyone before I was born?"

I smiled a little bigger and shook my head.

"Well, then, I'm sure it'll work out. God owes you one."

I wished I could believe her. But she didn't let me wallow anymore. I guess I was happy that she never left me alone. Bearing this by myself would just suck.

"So would it be _really_ not funny if I grabbed the tickets and ran?"

I smiled again, but not the usual one I'd have given her at another time. "Yes."

"Well, then," she stood. "I'm going to finish my story. You can join us, if you want."

After she left the room, I stood and followed. Might as well listen to someone else's happy ending, even if I couldn't get one of my own.

I spent the next few weeks dreading Daphne's coming out ball. Yet the date loomed, and the band had to prepare. I tried to act as if it were some random girl we were going to be playing for, which worked to a certain extent, until I had to talk to Lord Dashwood. I'd wanted somebody else to do it. But, being the band leader, Alex made me call. To my surprise, it wasn't so terrible. The conversation was short, with no talk beyond business. I think, as fathers go, Daphne's was a bit more observant than most. He didn't even ask if I wanted to talk to Daphne, which would have made it more awkward than it already was.

We worked hard, practicing to get everything just right, because this was also our chance to redeem ourselves after the small disaster at the Orwood's.

Then, all too soon, the day came. Chloe wished me the usual luck as I left, but in her eyes, there was more to the luck than simply playing well. I rolled my eyes as I thought, _Prince Charming_, but then my stomach twisted in knots and I could joke no more.

We got there and set up in record time, probably because they could all feel the tension emanating from me. They all knew the situation, and the fact that I was uncomfortable. We also had a while to wait, under our instructions not to begin playing until Daphne arrived.

And arrive she did. The huge glass doors at the top of the grand staircase opened, and she stepped out in all her beauty. Every pair of eyes in the room followed her decent down the staircase. Her father met her. Neither of their faces held the emotion expected at a joyous occasion such as this. Lord Dashwood was never someone to display emotion very much, but Daphne was. And there was nothing there.

As instructed, the band struck up a simple tune, and I sang, "_Just the way you look tonight._" I did my best not to look at her too much, but that became unavoidable when she came over to me and said, "Hey."

The greeting that was usually a melody that rose in happiness went down, not the usual tune. Still a tune, but a sad one. I responded with a monotonous, "Hey." And I was apparently the singer of the two of us.

"Can we talk for a sec?" Her voice went up hopefully. I almost couldn't bear it. But I didn't want to talk to her. This wasn't the lively, vivacious girl that I loved, and I knew whatever she had to say to me wouldn't be satisfactory.

"It's your party; you can do whatever you want." There was no way she could miss the scorn in my voice.

"Ian…" she said, pleading, "I really didn't-"

"I don't want to hear about it Daph. What happened to the old you? The _real_ you?"

I waited for her to wake up, like Chlo said she would. She didn't. She just looked hurt. I turned away from her, just so I wouldn't have to look at her. "Okay lads, let's, uh, let's pick up the tempo." Anything to distract me. They all looked back at me with sympathy in their eyes. I realized I couldn't look at that, either.

A few minutes later, Lord Dashwood led a blonde woman who looked a bit familiar onto the floor. _Daphne's mother_, I realized, as I started another of my songs.

_Thank you for this moment  
I've gotta say how beautiful you are  
Of all the hopes and dreams I could have prayed for  
Here you are  
If I could have one dance forever  
I would take you by the hand_

Singing it hurt a bit. But instead of focusing on something that would just make me mess up, I focused on Daphne's parents.

_  
Tonight it's you and I together  
I'm so glad I'm your man_

They were interesting, but I couldn't keep my mind off of the lyrics. I _had_ written this song for Daphne.

_  
And if I lived a thousand years  
You know I never could explain  
The way I lost my heart to you  
That day_

That day I'd been ridiculous, falling for a girl I barely knew. And after that, I forced my mind to stay blank for the rest of the song. I don't think it cooperated very well.

_  
But if destiny decided I should look the other way  
Then the world would never know  
The greatest story ever told  
And did I tell you that I love you  
Tonight?_

_  
I don't hear the music  
When I'm looking in your eyes  
But I feel the rhythm of your body  
Close to mine_

_  
It's the way we touch, it soothes me  
It's the way we'll always be  
Your kiss, your pretty smile  
You know I'd die for _

_  
Oh baby  
You're all I need_

_  
And if I lived a thousand years  
You know I never could explain  
The way I lost my heart to you  
That day  
But if destiny decided I should look the other way  
Then the world would never know  
The greatest story ever told  
And did I tell you that I love you  
Just how much I really need you  
Did I tell you that I love you  
Tonight  
Tonight_

_  
And if I lived a thousand years  
You know I never could explain  
The way I lost my heart to you  
That day  
But if destiny decided I should look the other way  
Then the world would never know  
The greatest story ever told  
And did I tell you that I love you  
Just how much I really need you  
Did I tell you that I love you tonight?_

Somehow, I'd never gotten around to telling her that I loved her. And now I never would. The world will never know… I heaved a sigh before I realized someone was speaking to me. Lord Dashwood's fiancé, requesting the father-daughter dance. This would be especially painful. I sucked it up and made my face as pleasant as I could. "And now, the traditional father-daughter dance. Lord Dashwood?"

I saw him, then began singing, never thinking that something could go wrong. But when I accidentally looked at Lord Dashwood, he was dancing with a blonde. Clarissa. What happened to Daphne? With her mother nowhere in sight, I began to worry. But I kept singing.

I was probably not the first to notice the re-entry of the Reynolds into the room, but I think I was the first to notice the look on Daphne's face when she saw her father dancing with Clarissa. The real Daphne was back. I didn't know how I could tell- why was the look of hurt on her face any different than the looks of hurt that I had created? But it was there. Her dream to dance with her father, being shattered into a million pieces, right before her very eyes. Yes, the hurt was there, but there was anger, too, and shock.

I stopped singing immediately, catching people off guard, and everyone turned to see what the problem was. A beat after me, the music ended, too.

Her face never changing, Daphne walked over to the father-daughter couple.

"What are you doing?" Clarissa asked. What a prick. Like she didn't have every right to kill her just then.

"Finally giving you what you deserve." Someone who didn't know Daphne as well as I might have thought that she would punch her. But even the real Daphne had more class than that. She took the tiara off of her head. It looked old and precious, but I didn't know the real meaning behind it, having stopped talking to Daphne before she could tell me.

"Go ahead," she said, extending it towards her stepsister. Clarissa took it.

"I don't want it," she told her, voice filled with tears. Looking significantly at her father, she emphasized, "_Any_ of it."

Had she looked at me with the same anger, I'd have known that she didn't want me, either. But she didn't. She didn't look at me at all.

She rushed out of the room, her mother on her heels after throwing a significant look at her ex. Lord Dashwood stood for a moment, stunned, then ran after the two of them. He must not have been successful in persuading them to stay, for he returned alone when the Queen arrived.

I'd have gone. To hell with the Queen and appearances. I would have followed her until the end of the world, or until she turned around. Whichever came first. I wouldn't have given up just because of my duty. Didn't Dashwood have any regard for his feelings at all? I was only staying because it would've hurt other people, had I left. None of the lads were so rich that I could bail out on them and limit their paychecks. They might have understood, but I didn't want to do that to them. And truth to tell, I was still in a bit of shock. Seeing the shiny, hard, new Daphne transform back into the slightly frayed Daphne I loved in the space of a second was disorienting. But it was still hard to remain where I was.

Even though the debutante was missing, the party dragged on. When it ended, I couldn't pack up fast enough. It was light out by the time I got home, and when I called the Dashwood manor, there was no Daphne. She was already gone. I swore quietly. They were gone. Daphne hadn't brought her cell phone, which wouldn't have worked overseas anyway, so I didn't have _that_ number, and long-distance calls were expensive. My Cinderella had gotten away. I began banging my head against the wall.

_PPP_

**And that, my ducks, is where I leave you. Again, I apologize profusely for the wait. Review and I might remember to write it faster. (waggles eyebrows)**

**And if you guys don't like me including all the lyrics to everything, please say so. There are no more songs, but I could cut out the lyrics.**

**Next: That really depressing period of time in the movie that takes up about two minutes with the song 'Half Life' playing in the background. Only I'm fleshing it out a little more. **


	8. Dried Up

Hello again. I actually started typing this chapter right after I posted the last one. Maybe I'm getting better.

**I don't own anything, though this is one of the few chapters where I'm actually going to have my own material show up. I love those, don't you?**

PPP

Chlo came down the stairs while I was still trying to give myself a concussion. When she pulled me away from the wall, I saw her eyes were red-rimmed. She had probably stayed up late last night and woken up early this morning to see me before anybody else in this family could overwhelm me. From far away, I could vaguely feel touched by the actions of my sister.

"What happened?" she asked, voice soft as she guided me to the kitchen and we sat down at the table.

"Well, she woke up. But I wasn't the one to do it."

Chloe let out a breath, but didn't say anything. I couldn't bear the silence- it left too much room for thought. I continued.

"I'm not really sure what happened, but she wasn't there for her father-daughter dance. And that's all she ever dreamed of, since she was little. To dance with her father at her wedding." I swallowed, then went on. "Granted, it wasn't her wedding, but I couldn't see her missing it for the world. Clarissa danced with Lord Dashwood instead. And then she was there, at the back of the room, and Chlo, the look on her face… I knew it then. Then she left, and I couldn't follow her. Lord Dashwood tried to make them come back, but… he couldn't. He came back for the _Queen_. His own daughter. _I_ would have kept going."

"Lord Dashwood is a different man than you are, Ian." She didn't say it scornfully, as I would have wished her to. I wanted her to hate him as much as I did in that moment, but she wouldn't. Darned girl was too understanding.

"You said 'them'," Chloe stated, though I knew it was a question.

"Her mother was there."

Chloe raised an eyebrow. I came out of my gloom for a second to ask her what was so amusing.

"I'm getting a bit of a 'Parent Trap' vibe, here," she replied, smirking. I just rolled my eyes, but then my thoughts went back to Daphne, oceans away.

My face must have shown my thoughts, because Chloe sighed again and said, "I know this seems like the end of the world to you, but things _will_ work out. I can feel it."

I had stopped counting the number of times she'd said that to me. "It never has, Chlo," I said gloomily. "What makes this time any different from any other time that you've ever said that to me?"

"Because," she said, "this time, you're not just pining after a girl who thought she was too good for you. You two really like each other, and you _fit._ I think it's too perfect for higher powers to ignore." I rolled my eyes again. Chloe invoked the higher powers much too often.

"And if it doesn't work out?"

"You've gotten yourself into holes, _really_ deep ones, but you've always been able to dig yourself out."

I didn't answer her for a long time. I traced patterns in the dark wood of the table. "I think I'm stuck this time, Chlo. Six feet under, with the dust piling on top."

--

School was going to be starting in a few weeks, but despite my original excitement at going to Oxford, I couldn't feel it now. I was very close to having saved enough money to pay for everything for my first year, so I couldn't even think of taking time off to go to America, let alone pay for it. So mostly I walked around like a bit of a zombie, worrying my family.

I couldn't help but going all the places we'd been together. The marketplace, the lake, concerts… my feet just carried me there. Even when I wasn't trying, we'd walked enough around London that even the streets weren't safe for me.

New student week came and went. I was at school and in classes. It had either taken forever or had happened too quickly- I couldn't tell which. New people were prying me out of my shell, though I was still a bit out of it sometimes.

I'd stopped writing songs. The rest of the band didn't know what to do with me. Normally I was bouncing around, bugging everyone for a piece of paper so I could scribble some idea down before I forgot it. Now, nothing. It seemed as though I'd dried up.

Most of those last few weeks of summer and first few weeks of school passed by in a blur, but there was one encounter that I remember all too clearly.

It was the my first Friday as a college student. I didn't have classes on Fridays, so I took a shift at GBGH. I was walking, because my room wasn't far from the hotel. And I got stopped by my _favorite_ person in the world, along with his friends. They stopped to say hello.

"Well, if it isn't the mixed-race mongrel without his mate," drawled Armistead. My shoulders stiffened, and I was trying to convince myself that it wasn't worth it to punch him in the face. "Did she finally recognize her family tree has worth? Did she leave you?" There were jeers and shouts of 'mongrel'.

I stopped walking, visibly shaking, trying to keep my temper under my control. I didn't blow often, but when I did, you would never be able to find the pieces.

"I didn't see her go running to you, Armi," I said as calmly as I could while turning around to face him.

"I didn't see her run to you either, mutt."

I closed my eyes. _Don't do it,_ I told myself. _It's what he wants…_ I opened my eyes once the red had cleared. "She had other things on her mind."

Armistead sniffed, and his friends weren't laughing anymore. "Obviously. Which I think proved my point exactly."

Taking another deep breath, I said, "Believe what you like."

"Do you _honestly_ think she'll fly halfway across the world to see _you_?"

"Yes," I replied. The lie was too easy. _If only I could believe it._ The words made me feel a little better, almost as though they were true. "And if she doesn't, I'll go halfway across the world to see her."

He snorted. "Like you could afford it."

He turned and walked away, his friends laughing again. My shoulders slumped as the fight left me, but I continued to walk.

I hadn't shown it, but Armistead's words stung, because I was having doubts, too. What if she _had_ moved on? Not to someone like Armistead, obviously, but what if she had gotten home, and didn't regret leaving at all? Could she slip back into her daily life in New York and forget about the time she'd spent here? Let it fade until it was just a dream?

These questions didn't help my mood in the following week. The new people I had started to hang out with kept asking me why I was so down. I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone except my roommate, James, who I had become pretty close with. Since he was happily dating, he could only offer his sympathies and some monetary help, should I ever wish to fly to America. I thanked him, filled with the overwhelming need to see my family. That Friday, before my shift at GBGH, I stopped off at home. My father and my sister had the TV turned to Lord Dashwood's speech, while my mom was doing her best to listen in from the kitchen. I plopped down next to my father, content to just be with my family. The man on the screen said something about priorities, but then he said something that shocked us all. "Which is why I must respectfully withdraw my candidacy."

I didn't even pay attention to the rest of what he said. Lord Dashwood, the bloke with no feelings, who had let his _own daughter_ walk out on him without expending a decent amount of energy to try to get her to come back… _He _ was turning his back on politics? Maybe his heart was bigger than I thought. As he walked away from the crowd and the cameras, I could almost swear that he heaved a sigh of relief.

I forgot all of my own problems just then. All any of us could say was how shocked we were at his behavior. Chloe actually looked a little proud of him. When I glanced quizzically at her, she just mouthed, 'Parent Trap'.

I left soon afterward, driving quickly to get to the hotel so I wouldn't be late. When I got there, I was given desk duty, the surest way to die of boredom.

I sat in my usual place on the desk doodling on a pad of stationary. I barely noticed that when the door opened once, everything went very quiet. I _did_ notice when someone cleared their throat right by me. I started talking before I even jumped down and looked up. "Welcome to the Great Britain Grand Hotel. Checking-" That's when I saw his face. Lord Henry Dashwood was facing me, a nondescript but expensive looking black suitcase clutched in one hand, still in the suit he was wearing at his speech that morning.

"Ian," he said, making it clear that a question was coming, "how interested would you be in accompanying me to America?"

PPP

Yes, I know. Really short, and yet another cliffie. But hey, at least I updated fast! Nobody's even reviewed the last chapter yet…

**-Arnold-**


	9. Never Better

**I started **_**this**_** one right after publishing the **_**last**_** one. Yay! Though it took me much longer to post. Sorry 'bout that. Finals SUCK, people.**

**Another one of those 'all mine' chapters. Never mind what I said in the last chapter- a lot of these are all mine. Er, mostly mine. Excepting the fact that this whole story is one big copyright issue, and it's not like any of the characters are mine. 'Least not any of the main ones. **sighs** Oh, well.**

**I also do not own The Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Caribbean, or British Airways. So technically, I had no right to use them, either.**

PPP

I sat on the plane as other fliers passed by in the aisle next to me. I couldn't believe it. I was actually going to America, as I'd been fantasizing for weeks.

Lord Dashwood had insisted on paying for me to go to America. I didn't like to think about how much it cost to get us to be standbys on a flight overseas, so I did my best not to. He was a lord- he had money.

I had gone back to my house to explain to my parents. As I was leaving, Chloe punched my shoulder and said, "Go get her, bro."

It was to the dorm to pack a bag, and then it was off to the airport with a man I barely knew, thinking, _This isn't going to be awkward at all…_

Waiting for the plane to take off, I couldn't keep still. My knees moved up and down in quick, nervous movements and I clenched my hands to keep from fidgeting.

"Nervous?" Lord Dashwood asked. I stared at him for a moment. These were the first words he'd spoken to me since we'd gotten to the airport.

I tried to relax. My body responded nicely. My face broke into a slightly embarrassed grin as I answered, "Yeah."

"Why?"

I stared at him again. "Well, I'm flying halfway across the world to try and make amends with the girl I walked out on."

"I must take responsibility for that, I'm afraid. I asked her to change."

I sat up straighter. "There was nothing wrong with her!" I said, a bit too loudly. Some people turned to look at me, but I didn't care.

His response matched mine in volume and intensity. "I know that!" He clamed enough to say, quieter, "So _I'm_ flying halfway around the world to make amends with two women."

My anger receded. "I think you win."

He smiled. "Yes. I believe I do."

"Doesn't make it any easier for me, though."

"At least for you it's only been a few weeks. I have seventeen years to make up for. Seventeen years to breed resentment, seventeen years for the wound to heal."

I flinched, and we were silent as the plane took off.

"She'll take you back in a second, you know."

I sat up straighter. "Why should she?"

"After I… spoke with her, she was less than herself, but after you left… well let's just say I don't think I've ever seen a girl so empty in all my years."

Wincing, I looked down. "You really shouldn't be telling me this now, sir."

"Call me Henry," he said, so quick that it seemed almost like an instinct, a reflex. "And what I'm saying is that she loves you. And she knows you were right. Everything will clear up between the two of you."

We fell silent then and all I could think was, _I hope you're right…_

As I flipped through the channels of the TV screen in front of me, I saw Lord Dashwood writing something out of the corner of my eye. I shifted ever so slightly to get a better look. He seemed a bit frantic, like I always looked when I was trying to get an idea out on paper before I lost it completely. I also noticed that he wasn't writing on a regular sheet of paper. It was his boarding pass. I squinted and could make out writing on the napkin on his tray table as well. Shaking my head, I paid more attention to _The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King_. I hadn't really liked the first two, but it was either this or _Pirates of the Caribbean_, and romance, no matter how much it was disguised behind skeletons and sword fights, was something I could _not_ handle right now.

I must have dozed off towards the end of the movie (maybe around the third ending- they just kept going, didn't they?), because the next thing I knew, the pilot's voice crackled over the speaker, telling us that we should prepare for landing.

Some ten minutes later, we were at the gate and the pilot was telling us to enjoy our stay in America, and thank you for flying British Airways. Lord Dashwood and I stood up, picked up our luggage, and proceeded to leave the airport (no one could believe we'd come overseas with just carry-ons).

We checked into a hotel and put our bags down. After that was done, Lord Dashwood immediately pulled out his cell phone and called the Reynolds' residence.

"Hey, this is Libby and Daphne Reynolds, we're not home right now, we're at the Marshall wedding, and it's not over until very late, and we'll be home even later because it takes a while to get home from the Five Towns…"

They were giggling, finishing each other's sentences… she sure didn't _sound_ like she missed me.

Lord Dashwood didn't look disheartened by the message at all. I suggested that we'd call it a night and try their house again tomorrow, but he wouldn't have it. He just dialed another number on his cell phone, and ten minutes later, we were getting into a taxi. Lord Dashwood shouted an address to the cabbie, and we were off.

Lord Dashwood and I both stared out of our respective windows, each of us burning off nervous energy in our own ways: my legs and hands wouldn't stay still, and he kept tearing little pieces of paper into even smaller bits.

When the cab pulled off the highway, Lord Dashwood said, without looking at me, "We're almost there." He then turned to me and continued, "If you don't mind, I'd like to have a word with Daphne before you come and sweep her off her feet."

Had I been less anxious, I would have snorted. That sounded much too close to something out of _Sleeping Beauty_. Lilly would have loved it. As it was, all I could do was shake my head; there would be no feet leaving the ground tonight.

Lord Dashwood ignored my disbelief. "I have a feeling that once you show up, I won't have very much of her attention."

"But you're her father!"

"Yes, but she's a teenager."

I decided not to argue with such a valid point. If she weren't mad at me, I'd agree with him completely. He seemed so sure that she'd forgive me…

The car stopped abruptly, and I was jerked from my thoughts. I resisted the urge to swallow like a cartoon. _We're here_.

Lord Dashwood wasted no time in taking a raft or something across the picturesque lake. I, however, had the time to walk around it, trying to appreciate the beauty (that I couldn't see) and keep my mind off of what I was about to do. Chloe would have called me a wuss.

_There's no guarantee she'll take me back. I could be walking into heartbreak._

Whatever I was walking into, I was there. The lights from the wedding were creeping up my body, making me more and more visible to those present. No one paid much attention to me, the guy in jeans at a wedding. I guess they assume that someone planning on crashing would wear something classier.

There she was, dancing in the middle of the floor in the arms of someone whom I recognized immediately as her father, or I might not have been responsible for what I'd end up doing to him.

Lord Dashwood caught my eye over Daphne's shoulder and nodded slightly. I took a deep breath, then began walking towards them. I caught his last sentence.

"I think when you're groveling, it's important to bring a very large present."

I could practically see the confusion on her face as she said, "I don't understand."

A small smile crept up Lord Dashwood's lips as I said, "May I cut in?" I don't know what I looked like, but in my head, I was going, _Please, please, please, please-_

She whirled around to face me, and the huge grin on her face and the "Hey!" that kept going up until it was too high for her range was enough to make my own face light up like I'd never doubted for a second that she'd take me back. As I hugged her, I figured I should have known all along.

I would have held her for much longer, but there were things to be said, on her part. Her hands went up to my neck and mine settled on her waist- everything seemed so natural. "I tried to call you but every time I did you weren't home, and your mom always _said_ that she'd tell you to call me back, but she seemed sort of distracted, and I'm not sure she remembered…"

"I was staying out of the house as much as possible. When I'm depressed, I don't like walls. Too confining. They only let you think about one thing. The one thing that depresses you."

Her face darkened a little. "Don't I know it."

"And to expect my mother to remember anything she hears on the phone is ridiculous and unfair to her. Chlo and I call her the Absent-Minded Professor all the time."

Daphne giggled a little, face returning to the blissful happiness. Leaning against my chest, she giggled.

"What?" I asked. She inclined her head towards her parents, who were snogging. Rather than be completely disgusted (as I would have been), she was happy for them. Granted, she didn't look at them for long, but still.

She rested her head back against my chest and I tightened my grip around her waist as we revolved in slow circles on the dance floor. Maybe tomorrow we'd all go back to England, maybe we'd stay here. Maybe later we'd have a moment alone (neither of us were PDA type people, and I, for one, wanted the 'kiss' part of 'kiss and make up'). Maybe our future would see us separated for stretches of time. But all that mattered was now, this perfect moment, and if someone were to ask me how I was doing, I wouldn't respond with a generic 'fine' or 'good'. I would be able to truthfully say, "Never better."

_~Fin~_

Yeah, I know. I didn't warn you in advance \ that this would be the end. Because truthfully, I hadn't known. I was sort of making this up as I went along. I never thought that I'd become so committed to it or love it so much. It was sort of just a throwaway idea that I had to write down (as always), but I've really grown to love this. And I had no idea that it would be met with such roaring (well, maybe… squealing? Whispered?) praise. Thank you to my 23 lovely reviewers!!! (Yes, I counted. Yes, I know I'm sad.) You guys were really what kept me going when I wasn't so into this story, and I wasn't sure I was going to even finish it. **hugs all around**

I _may_ do a sequel (it depends on how much you guys beg me. … just kidding), but I'm not entirely sure. If I do, though, it'll take longer to get it out, because I'll **gasp!** _actually have to come up with my own plot!!!_ I have a few ideas bouncing around, though, so… we'll see.

So… I'll see you 'round, and I look forward to all the reviews!! **wink wink, nudge nudge**

Love ya lots,

Arnold


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